


The Ties that Bind

by ships_to_sail



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Smut, all the sex things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 05:07:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13517196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ships_to_sail/pseuds/ships_to_sail
Summary: His fingers began to pull ties off the small brass hooks, looping them around his neck and tying knot after knot, Windsor and Half-Windsors, his fingers flying as his mind wandered. Admittedly, so many of his ties didn't ‘bring him joy’ as Sonny had said after reading the book that started this whole stupid thing. They'd been given to him by colleagues and acquaintances, people unfamiliar with anything else about him beyond his taste in expensive formal accessories.But every now and then, his fingers would stumble and his breath would catch as his mind focused on a memory.





	The Ties that Bind

**Author's Note:**

> To the irreplaceable AHumanFemale, who betad this story and invited me into the fold of the Barisi family in a a way I don't have words for!

Rafael Barba faced the heavy oak doors and took a deep breath, his hands coming to rest lightly on the antique brass handles. His memory flashed with warm Sunday afternoons spent at flea markets, one hand is his pocket and the other laced tightly in Sonny's as they scoured bin after bin in search of the perfect fixtures, the perfect frames, every inch of that house chosen to match the people they were. They people they were no longer going to be.

Rafael shook the thought out of his head and huffed at his own melodrama, throwing open the closet door and striding to the small cedar cabinet on the wall opposite. When they'd bought this house four years ago, it had been with the hope and implied promise of more, of family and children and warm lazy afternoons far away from the office. It was a house for the man Rafi was trying to be for Sonny, and all these years later it broke his heart to know that it hadn't worked. And now they were moving back to the city, closer to the precinct and 1PP and all the restaurants and theatres they spent so much time at anyway.

The arguments ran unceasingly through Rafael’s mind as he flicked the cabinet open with a practiced nonchalance. Not for the first time, he was grateful the cabinet was coming with them back to Manhattan, and he smiled as the gentle smell of cedar rose to meet him when he ran his fingers lovingly across the several dozen ties hanging inside. So many of which weren't making the trip back to the city with him. That was part of the whole thing, Sonny reasoned. A chance to clean house, literally, to downsize and simplify and get back to the things that made them  _ them.  _ No matter how practically Sonny framed it, though, it still felt to Rafael like giving up. And not just giving up the ties. 

His fingers began to pull ties off the small brass hooks, looping them around his neck and tying knot after knot, Windsor and Half-Windsors, his fingers flying as his mind wandered. Admittedly, so many of his ties didn't ‘bring him joy’ as Sonny had said after reading the book that started this whole stupid thing. They'd been given to him by colleagues and acquaintances, people unfamiliar with anything else about him beyond his taste in expensive formal accessories. 

But every now and then, his fingers would stumble and his breath would catch as his mind focused on a memory. 

The black silk tie with the silver herringbone pattern. He hadn't worn it since his grandmother’s funeral, and he had no intention of ever wearing it again. But he couldn't shake from his mind the image of it balled around Sonny's fist as he used it to wipe the tears from Rafi's cheeks, whispering Italian words of comfort Rafael had never asked him afterwards to translate. The silk had felt so good, so incredibly cool on his flushed cheeks. And when Sonny's long fingers had braced his cheeks, rubbing soft circles at his temples as Rafael poured out his guilt and anger and self-loathing, Rafi hadn't thought twice about the wrinkles he'd have to steam out later. 

He hadn't even minded that Sonny kept the tie, shoving it into his pocket and unfastening the top button of Rafael’s shirt. He was so terrified that Rafael couldn't breathe, was so unsure of what to do. He'd never before witnessed what happened when a person like Rafi broke, when an earthquake made the eternal strength of a mountain look futile and asinine. Rafael had wandered the funeral with his collar undone, made it through the wake with the smallest hint of chest hair on display as the disapproving, clucking tongues of his aunts followed him from room to room. When Sonny pulled the almost unsalvageable tie out of his pocket a few days later, that infuriating clucking once again filled his ears as he collapsed without a word into Sonny's shocked but waiting arms.

It couldn't be said that the tie brought him joy, no, but he would also never throw it away. He placed it on the ever-smaller pile of ties to keep.

A Barret knot, a rose knot, two more Half-Windsors. 

And then there it was, a pale yellow and blue paisley tie, the raised stitching worn soft from frequent wearing. It was one of his favorite ties, the color combination a forever reminder of the only blond haired, blue eyed goofball he'd ever loved. He wore the tie when he wanted to think of Sonny. More specifically, whenever he wanted to think of Sonny, flat on his back, long pale arms stretched above him as the tie wove it's way around his wrists, forearms, bed frame. Sonny was the boyscout, but he was also a remarkably good teacher. 

Rafael smirked and licked his lips at the memory, pale skin straining against expensive embroidery as Rafael sucked Sonny deep, hollowing out his cheeks and running his tongue across the slit lazily, lapping at Sonny like a cat with cream. He'd been unable to tear his eyes away from the slowly reddening skin as Sonny had twisted and arched and begged for Rafael to finish him, to own him, to swallow him whole. With a last broad, slow lick from his balls to the tip, Rafael had taken Sonny to the back of his throat and been happy to comply in finishing each and every final part of Sonny Carisi.

When he'd finally untied Sonny, the man limp and satiated, he'd trailed the end of his tie lightly over his chest, his hips, his cock as it grew flaccid, and Sonny shivered with a shaky exhale. Rafael smiled and buried his face in the balled up tie and inhaled the salt and sunshine sent of the man beneath him. He hung the tie on the bedside lamp and smiled. He'd still never washed that tie, and he couldn't quite tell if he was imagining it as a briny taste dusted over his lips now as he set it on the ‘keep’ pile. 

Nicky knots and Plattsburgh knots and a laugh as he found the only bowtie in his collection, a white silk number he'd worn only because Sonny had asked him to.

At first he'd balked at the white tux, the burgundy cumberbund making him look like he was ready for prom, not a career award for his work taking on sexism in the commercial airline industry. But when he'd seen the playful sparkle in those baby blues turn to something more like the silence before the storm, he'd given in. It was the only time he'd ever asked Sonny for help with a tie, his short fingers far more used to his conventional ties. Sonny had been more than happy to oblige, incredibly proud of his hard work. A fact he made sure to remind him of hours later when he slid the fabric free of Rafael’s collar and up his throat to his mouth, gagging him with a hungry look before flipping him roughly and bending him over the desk in Rafael’s office. They had to be quiet, an assembled group of lawyers and SVU detectives just down the hall, waiting for the guest of honor.

The guest of honor who was, at that moment, being worked open from the inside out, his incisors leaving deeply erotic shadows on the white fabric off his makeshift gag as long, pale fingers disappeared inside him, to the first knuckle, and then the second, a second and then a third finger following. Rafael’s vision went blurry at the edges, spit and precum leaking out of him, dirty and raw and animalistic as Sonny began to pump into him from behind, miniscule movements quickly giving way to a hungry claiming of Rafael’s body. Sonny so rarely took charge, usually took such great pleasure in bringing a smile to his face, that Rafael couldn’t help but willingly give way to moments like this, took his own form of delight in bringing out the shadowed edge to his living sunshine.

When Sonny came inside Rafi, Rafael soon followed, coating both his hand and Sonny’s. He felt something inside him laid to waste when those same long fingers, which had been wrapped so fiercely around his dick, swept up every last drop of Rafael and consumed him with pleasure. “Can’t have you looking a mess, Counselor,” the only thing Rafael heard through the blood rushing in his ears. He did look a mess, of course, and he had only the haziest memories of receiving the award, but the bowtie had never been untied, and Rafael had to stifle a moan as he lay it aside for the keeping. 

Trinity knots, fishbone knots, and one particularly difficult Van Wijk knot that left him slightly sweaty under the collar. When he finally pulled the knot out from that one, he took a closer look and realized why. He wanted to viscerally recoil, and the ragged knit tie fell out of his hand like it was a coal on fire. 

He could have sworn he’d gotten rid of that tie. He was going to now, and he picked it back up between pinched fingers and threw it into the trashcan in his bathroom, wishing he could set the damn thing on fire. 

The dark purple knit had once been one of his favorites. It’s why he’d chosen to wear it on their date. Why he’d felt part of himself break when Carisi dug a heel into on his way out the door, practically spitting behind him that he couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t continue to live a life in which Barba did all of the sacrificing and Sonny was left to feel like an unwelcome guest in his own home. It was an argument they’d had so often, the weight of it was exhausting, a weighted blanket of retread arguments. Rafael wanted to give Sonny what he wanted, a house in the country and a million giggling children to fill his time and space and constant, puppy-like need for validation. Only Sonny didn’t need any of that, and Rafael wouldn’t listen when he tried to explain. Explain that all he really needed was to see Rafael happy in his own life, comfortable in his own home, not the external architect of some life he was only half participating in. When Rafael had refused to make eye contact, choosing instead to focus the storm of feelings inside him on the weft and weave of the tie in his hands, Sonny had snapped. He’d grabbed the tie and, when he couldn’t manifest the strength to rip it in half with brute force, he’d settled for balling the thing up and walking on it. He was trying to break through Rafael’s shell, to make him look and see what he was doing to himself, and through that to Sonny. Instead, all Rafi had seen was his favorite tie, crumpled like trash at the feet of the man he’d worn it for. It stung just to think about the memories, and Rafael hadn’t paid attention to what happened to the tie. 

Sonny must have picked it up when he came back, blonde hair with semi-permanent grooves from where Sonny’s fingers had ran through it countless times the night before. There had been apologies, sweet kisses and hushed whispers that slowly smoothed out the more ragged edges of his pain. And if Rafael never had to see that tie, or think of that fight, ever again, it would be too soon. 

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was almost done. He closed his mind to the fact that after this cabinet came socks, then pocket squares, cufflinks, watches, a million other pieces of detritus that Rafael had used to build himself over the years. First, the ties. There would be plenty of time for the rest of it. 

A Merovingian knot, two cape knots, a capsule knot, and then there it was. The last tie.

A thin, green tie, embroidered with leaves and vines in differing shades of green and blue, it was perhaps the most lovely tie Rafael owned. He ran it through his fingers contemplatively, his thumb stopping to trace a white circle on the back, familiar in its strangeness on the tie. He fought off a blush as another memory struck him. 

Sonny, hand in the front of Rafael’s pants, their phones both buzzing in respective pockets, the jury returned earlier than they’d anticipated. Rafael gritted his teeth, ready to insist they stop, when the look in Carisi’s eyes stopped him in his tracks. He bit the inside of his lip to hold back a pained whine, and his eyelids fluttered as he fought to hold on just a little bit longer. Carisi’s palm was flat on his chest, his fingers digging in just underneath Rafi's collarbone, a sharp pain holding him in his body, pulling him through the pleasure as Sonny jerked him off roughly. He came with muffled shout against Sonny's lapels, and watched in aroused horror as Sonny tucked him back inside his underwear and grabbed his tie roughly, running it along the palm of his hand and around each of his fingers. 

Rafael choked on his tongue as he watched the a pale white stain grow on the reserve side of his tie. At least the man had the decency to hide his filthy nature where the general public had to look at least a little harder to find it. He reached a hand up to the knot, covering Carisi’s hand with his own and beginning to pull it lose.

"Don't.” Sonny's voice was low and ragged, an animal growl that sent a dagger of want through Rafael’s belly. He felt himself growing hard again, even with the come from last time still drying his tie. He dried to laugh, but his mouth was dry.

“Yeah, I'd make a hell of a first impression in Judge Barth’s court with a comestained tie.”

“Aw, she won't even knows it's there.” His eyes glittered with a sharpened, knowing humor. “But I sure will.” And with that he kissed Rafa one more time, lips and teeth and an almost bruising intensity, and pushed him out of the empty conference room and towards the waiting crowd. Rafael swallowed curse and vowed eternal revenge on the mouth of Sonny Carisi.

Which, of course, reminded him that revenge was still his to be had. With an almost holy reverence, he hung the ties he was keeping back in the cabinet and set the others in a wooden cigar box he was also getting rid of. There were about to be some startlingly well dressed Goodwill shoppers, that was a guarantee. He pulled both of the closet doors shut behind him, and a weight settled onto his shoulders when they clicked shut behind him. A good weight. The reassuring press of something long delayed that, when accomplished, wasn't worth the procrastination in the first place.

He found Sonny in the kitchen, elbow deep in Tupperware that hadn't seen an accompanying lid in half a decade. Maybe they really were long overdue for a clean out. The other man didn't hear Rafael approaching over the steady stream of whispered diatribe against Rafa, God, and the holy mother herself. Rafael smirked and used the moment of surprise to press a full raspberry, loud and wet, to the back of Sonny's neck.

“Christ, Rafael, you scared the bajeesus out of me!”

“I'm sure Jesus would have no problem with my interrupting your pleas for another medium-sized round lid. Besides, it's right here,” Rafael plucked a green-rimmed round lid from the pile and presented it to Carisi with a flourish. Carisi frowned in return.

“I've been staring at this pile for half an hour. How did you just do that?”

“Fresh eyes, dearest. You've been doing this for as long as it took me to do my ties? I trekked down memory lane and back and you're still only on the first cabinet?”

“Yeah, well - wait, does this mean your finished?”

Rafael nodded solemnly and and Sonny whooped with joy, tossing extraneous lids like confetti and hollering with delight when they crashed back against the counter. “Your reward is in the bedroom,” Sonny teased playfully, his eyes rimmed with unshed tears of laughter. Rafael cocked an eyebrow and Sonny waved his hands through the air. “Nothing like that. It's on the dresser.” Sonny waved him towards the bedroom, clearly not intending to come with him. Rafa's brown knit in confusion but he made his way into the bedroom slowly. 

He almost didn't see it in the half light of the bedroom, blending in among the loose change and spare cufflinks that made up the bulk of junk on their dresser. But there it was, nestled on a bed if tissue paper - a new tie. Rafael couldn't hold in a chuckle.

“I thought the whole point was to throw out, not take i-” his heart stopped, and his voice with it.

It wasn't a new tie. In was, in fact, a very old and very familiar tie.

“Seemed like the right time,” Sonny said in a whisper, his long frame propped against the bedroom door. He was watching Rafa intently as Rafael reached out and ran single finger along the edge of the brown tie, the gold circlicues at once completely opposite of Rafael’s usual style, and as familiar as the back of his hand.

“Where,” he choked, clearing his throat and trying again. “How did you get this?”

“Your grandmother gave it to me. Remember the first Barba family Thanksgiving I went to?” They both cringed at the memory. “Well, she pulled me aside and said you wouldn't ever want anything of your father's.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Rafael muttered.

“But she said that your grandfather loved you more than anything, and that she wanted you to have that. It's -”

“His Sunday best,” Rafael whispered, and he felt the dam break as two long arms encircled him and he cried. Cried for the man who'd taught him all the knots he knew, who taught him that to walk around the Bronx while Cuban, you needed a smart mouth and a smarter mind, who first taught him the word  _ abogado  _ and made him see a world beyond the corner bodega. 

Sonny made gentle shushing noises as he ran a hand up and down Rafael’s back, gently picking the tie up out of the box and slipping it around Rafael’s neck. He began to tie a simple square knot, still standing behind Rafael and working from a sense of feel until Rafael caught his wrist and pressed a kiss to his palm.

“Leave it,” he said, his voice rough with tears. He turned in the circle of Sonny's arms and pressed a kiss to the edge of his jaw, where the skin was thin and he could feel Sonny's heartbeat. Steady, sure, and enough. “Come on. Let's go shove the lidless containers into the cabinet until tomorrow and order dim sum for dinner.”

Sonny laughed and stepped back, arm fanning forward in a gesture that said ‘after you’. “Be my guest, counselor. But don't you wanna…” he gestured vaguely to the tie hanging limply around Rafi's neck. Rafael shook his head and smiled, slipping his hands into Carisi’s.

“Nah. Not all ties needs knots.”


End file.
